She was loving
She was loved
No accomplishment carries the same 
Weight. 

I was about to tack this onto the end of my Double Helix Collection when I thought 'Whoa, Nelly! If anyone ever did read these musings, they'd be on the phone to a crisis hot line.' So put the phone down, my one true friend and reader, I was remembering an assignment given by Mrs. Tynan, my 5th grade teacher at St. Christopher's School in Tonawanda, New York. She asked us to write our own epitaphs, using fait accompli as the means to express our hopes and dreams for the future. While other kids wrote of families, university degrees, and exotic careers, I wrote three words:

She was loved.

I now revisit that assignment, with age and wisdom informing my decision to add a new line: 

She was loving
She was loved

And let me be ever so clear - the two are disconnected. I do subscribe to the Golden Rule, Like Attracts Like, Yin/Yang, Be a friend to get a friend, As ye reap, so shall ye sow, and on and on and on. But as much as this is all true, it is the giving of love that is the gift to oneself. If you choose to love, it must be done without expectation. Of course, that's been my biggest downfall and personality flaw. I'm a Greedy Little Thing, wanting the person who receives my love to bend to my will. I want the Other to be Me, wanting my wants, and loving with the same romantic intensity. How could that possibly be true? Two discrete human beings with different histories, family cultures, schooling, friendships, and psychological mindset couldn't possibly come to a relationship with the same expectations. Lovers are two souls coming from different worlds, sharing that one fragile emotion - love. Well, due to the humbling experience of extinguished hopes and dashed dreams, my hopes and dreams have finally begun to evolve for the better. Perhaps now it's possible to live well, give love, and accept openly and without qualification, that love given to me. Wish me luck. I wish you the same.

By the way, if you're still concerned about the epitaph business, please note: I'm not planning on leaving anytime soon. Longevity runs in my family, and I intend to use every heartbeat given me, and even a few extra if you're willing to leave me plugged in long enough to be sure. And know, my friend, that this is my trajectory for the interim - I aim for a life of love and light. It sounds a little morbid, but I may even take it upon myself to have these words etched on a lovely urn as a reminder to myself that life is an ART: "She was loving. She was loved." Oh, and if you don't mind, please scatter my ashes in the Caribbean Sea. Let's take a trip there in the next few years and I'll show you the exact spot! Thanks.
~Colleen 

Years ago, I read in Gloria Steinem's book Revolution From Within, that she did not originate the 1960's feminist statement "Become the man you want to marry." I had adopted that line as my own for years, always giving her credit. I still owe much of my thinking on the subject of equal rights to Ms. Steinem, and continue to value this solid, but anonymous advice. So in that vein, I present the qualities I would admire in a good man... the man I would "marry."  He is:

Financially Sound
Well groomed and fit
Relaxed
Intelligent
Accomplished
Capable
Talented
Enjoys travel
Loves me
Respects me
Loves himself
Respects himself
Emotionally generous
Likes my daughters
Conversational
Committed
Kind in every way

I will strive everyday to incorporate these qualities into my own life and become that marriageable man. If I should ever meet my match, even at this late date, he will be welcomed to sit side by side with another complete human being. No more of this "you complete me" soul mate, twin-flame nonsense. I want to be a whole being. My ideal "mate" would want the same thing. Relationship is a dance, not a puzzle yet to be completed. And if one is not in relationship with another person, then nothing is lost and a wholesome, fulfilling life is still the benefit. 

I've said it before; the purpose of life is to make each day feel good. Good is a trifling word, so to more explicitly define it, a Good Day is one filled with purpose and love. This is an individual thing. We, as complete human beings, must learn and grow to our own capacity. And our experiences cannot be some lilting stream of silly smiles and empty euphemisms. Our flaws and depths accentuate our individuality, and thus, our beauty. Some days are sad, but meaningful. Other days are giddy, but the joy lifts us to new planes. And the majority of our days are of the Mama Bear variety, middle-of-the-road just right. As they say, “it’s all good,” if one finds it to be so, or finds a way to appreciate the learning experience that makes it so. Okay, so I'm not a store greeter, waving to strangers, and wishing folks a sloppy, happy-faced "Have a good day!" sentimentality. That slogan isn't exactly evil, but it can reek of Hallmark banality, robbing universal love of its power or providing unwanted contrast (and attention) to a darker thought or  moment. No, my Good Day builds on an unfolding and evolving understanding of universal truth and beauty.  It can never be fully comprehended, but it can be approached. Perhaps I need to find another expression that states my intentional message of goodwill. Well, for now - "Hey all you beautiful, fully-realized humans, have a Universal Truth and Beauty kind of day!" Hmmmm. See you tomorrow. ~ Colleen

SEARCHING FOR SAFE HARBOR:
Perigee, Equinox, Solar eclipse
Moon-child awash with tidal emotion
Swimming toward a notion of land 
In unfathomable stellar oceans
Knowing somewhere the shore exists
Knowing the universe expands 

This is one of those nights - a quiet evening, listening to Herbie Hancock's 2007 tribute to Joni Mitchell - River. Soft, sweet, sexy music, sipping a leathery, 5 year old Italian Rosso, La Brume. Yeah, it's one of those nights I'd like to share with a lover. Dinner over, time on my hands, the dense scent of cut tropical flowers buttering the air. One fat candle lit for just me, just because. I'd love to share the kissable sensuality of it all. On the other hand, there's no one here questioning what I'm doing, or not doing, or why I like this particular music or this rough, fabulous wine. This is the kind of night when I wonder if I could ever invite someone into my life again. Oh, baby, life is sweet. I think I'm spoiled by my own company. Perhaps I could just let someone in for a little while. A little while would be nice. 

~ Colleen 

I own a string of failed relationships. The truth is, I'll never be one of those columnists who give advice to the lovelorn. But I do know how to live alone, and how to craft a beautiful and interesting life. It isn't always easy, but I've managed to maintain friendships with most of the men I've loved and who have loved me. Am I too difficult? Too independent? Too needy? Too whatever? Of course, and so were they. That's why it didn't work out. But if nothing else, I'm a good friend. This last break-up was especially tough. I'm 62. I gave away my last 5 years to someone who liked having me around on occasion, but did not want to create a partnership with me. I was pleasant, and he knew I loved him. He had more money than me, so he afforded me travel and an Upper East Side - Hamptons slice of life that I never would have experienced on my own. I considered those years my last pretty years. I figured that, once we settled in together, I would become an attractive, beloved, older woman. Well, now those years are gone and so is he, and I have to begin again from scratch as an unattached, older woman. Let's hope there's something still attractive left. After all, it takes years to develop a relationship into something that could become permanent. At least, that's what I believed until now. But, like I said earlier, I'm not an expert on romantic relationships. I simply know that time is running out, and the availability of men I might find attractive has dwindled, making it difficult for the romantic scenario to run its course. I'm in this life-game for joy, not suffering or settling. So... I'm off and running on Going It Solo. My income isn't exactly conducive to a life of high living and exotic travel. On the other hand, I love my work and wouldn't cash in the hours of my life for high-paying drudgery. Life. Is. Short. You've heard it thousands of times, but pay attention! Wasting a year of my life on grief for a man who didn't want me is so profoundly absurd, that I can only shrug and say, "What the fuck? I worry about losing time, and then I give it away to moping and crying? Get a life, woman. It didn't work out the way you wanted. So what. Grow from the experience, and move on." But, in a way, this grief has done me an immense favor. I've had a long stretch of time to think about the next and what, at best, will be my final 40 years. 
My motto used to be: Craft a beautiful and interesting life. As of today, it's a little more fundamental: Make each day feel good. I've had a damned interesting life, and I appreciate the beauty in sights and sounds that stir my heart to the point of bursting. It's been a good run, and the peak moments I've enjoyed will continue to leave me gasping in wonder, but they also left gaping holes in the unremarkable calendar on either end. The daily pleasure I seek now is the steady kind that warms one's soul, and lies closer to home than foreign landmarks. It isn't a skip from one grand adventure to another. I want to embrace the intimacy that comes from sharing private thoughts, the warmth of mutual admiration, and the feel of a loving touch on one's arm... in short, friendship. For reasons unknown, romantic love has eluded me. It's okay. Today, I wave the white flag over my dreams of partnership, and hoist the colors of freedom. Alone, I am surrounded by loving souls who have their partners standing beside them, but still care about me. I will continue to love, unabashedly, the men upon whom I once lavished what I thought would be my life, but I take that life back now, holding firmly onto my selfhood, my singular accomplishments, and my sometimes inexplicable optimism. I will take advantage of my ongoing passion for extraordinary experiences, but I make this promise to myself:  Each day, I wholeheartedly welcome the beauty, love and joy in whatever comes my way. The purpose of each and every day is to feel good. 
~ Colleen